Old Fashioned

 

See maybe I’ll meet you in an alley. Maybe you’ll be talking yourself, rehearsing your lines. Smooth lines that your wrote on paper, old fashioned. And I will think you’re crazy. Or maybe I’ll meet you at support group and you will stare at me. And I will think why is he staring at me. A boy. A good looking boy. Why me. Or maybe I’ll meet you at a football game. And you will be totally infatuated with me and I won’t know it until you kiss me and not Mary Elizabeth. Or maybe you will offer me a pen before I could ask. Or maybe you’ll hang from the Ferris wheel trying to persuade me to go on a date with you. And once again, I’ll think you’re crazy.

However it happens, however we meet, it will happen with randomness mixed with originality. Maybe it will take one weekend or one day. Maybe it will take 2 months or 2 days. Maybe it will take one night, lying on the street, waiting for a car to come. Slow dancing with no music. Spilling wine on my carpet. Kissing me and not Mary Elizabeth. Reading my favorite book. Maybe that’s all it takes. No complicated situations or too many thoughts. Maybe it will come out of the blue. And the next thing I know I am holding your hand, kissing it as you drive. Sitting right next to you.

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